And They Call It Pumpkin Love
by fbeauchamphartz
Summary: Kurt tries to find the courage to ask Adam out on something more than a coffee date when the subject of pumpkins comes up. Kurt H. Adam C.


**A/N:** _Written for the Kurtoberfest Day 1 prompt 'pumpkins', and dedicated to the amazing lovejoybliss, whom I really should write more stuff for. Consider this an apology (especially since I don't think I write Adam as well as I could. But, I'm trying 3) Warning for mention of Blaine (nothing big)._

"Well, hello, handsome," Adam says, in that suave and effortlessly complimentary way he has about him. It's genuine, not at all put on, and when Kurt smiles in response, his entire face lights up. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Well, hello, yourself," Kurt says, offering Adam the chair across from him with a wave of his hand. This is their ninth coffee date (Kurt might be keeping a tally, but only in passing), every Monday and Friday afternoon, at the Starbucks across the street from NYADA. They've had lunch together a few times, gone to two movies (along with a couple of the members from Adam's Apples), and to an Off-Broadway matinee that the musical theater students can attend for free when they show their NYADA ID's at the box office. They're getting to know each other slowly – favorite books, favorite musicals, favorite designers, Adam's fascination with Ginsberg poetry, Kurt's love/hate relationship with silk/rayon blends - and Kurt likes it that way. They're not rushing into anything, not making any big romantic gestures, not planning their lives because of a coincidental enjoyment of kimchi and a mutual appreciation for the lyricism of Sondheim.

But it's been over a month, and Kurt's trying to find a way to let Adam know that he's ready to move one more step ahead – maybe dinner at his place? Kurt doesn't know how to get to that point yet. Adam isn't just different from other guys he's known; the man might as well be from another planet. He's not only talented, not only smart, he has an innate sophistication that Kurt's never known in anyone. Adam doesn't seem to have any esteem issues, no hang-ups, and it makes Kurt feel a bit…juvenile. Out of Adam's league, considering the baggage from his past that he can't seem to lose (not like his favorite Hartmann's Herringbone Hardside trunk that JFK _still_ can't seem to locate after his last trip to Ohio). Kurt doesn't want to mess up, do something stupid like make a tragically unfunny joke or obscure reference. Or perhaps do something clumsy like spill his drink down Adam's shirt; trip over nothing and fall on his face.

Kurt gets the feeling that Adam knows Kurt likes him as something more than coffee dates and movie buddies. And Adam, with a secret range of experiences that Kurt doesn't have, probably knows he can have him. But he's respecting Kurt's boundaries, waiting for Kurt to make the first move.

Adam knows about Blaine. He knows how badly that situation derailed Kurt. He's willing to wait for Kurt to be ready to move on.

Kurt was hoping this would be the coffee date when he found that courage.

"Can I get you a coffee?" Adam asks, slipping the strap of his bag over the back of his chair.

"Thank you, but I already have one," Kurt says, raising his paper cup.

"Grande nonfat mocha?" Adam asks.

"Usually, yes," Kurt says, flattered that Adam remembers, "but seeing as this is the first day of October, I switched to PSL, in recognition of the holiday season."

"PSL?" Adam asks, dropping down into his seat and immediately leaning in slightly, giving Kurt his undivided attention.

"A pumpkin spice latte," Kurt explains, almost forgetting the need for clarification when Adam sets his lopsided smile on him. "Kind of the new trend in handcrafted coffee beverages for the fall season."

"Ah," Adam replies. "So, does that really taste like pumpkin?"

"Mmm, I guess it's a matter of opinion," Kurt says, taking off the lid and looking at the contents of his cup, filled nearly to the top since he orders it sans sugar or creamer, and he hasn't taken a sip yet.

"May I?" Adam asks, reaching his hand out for the cup.

"Hmm? Of course," Kurt says, sliding the cup across the table.

"I've never really tried anything _pumpkin_ before," Adam divulges, approaching the steaming cup carefully.

"Really?" Kurt asks, surprised. Considering his own personal obsession with pumpkin flavored _anything_ at the start of fall, he can't imagine a single human being who hasn't tried pumpkin. Besides, this city, in particular, goes crazy about the holidays. Pretty much a second after August ended, the requisite symbols of autumn popped up everywhere – every storefront in the city, every large display window - hosed down with the spirit of the changing seasons.

"Mmm," Adam murmurs, backing away from the rim of the cup to blow across the scalding surface. "It's not really a thing where I'm from."

"What? They don't have pumpkins in England?" Kurt asks, trying not to stare as Adam attempts to cool the latte enough to chance a sip. The pucker of his lips in particular has Kurt transfixed, with a dreamy expression on his face.

"We do," Adam says, choosing to answer before he takes the taste he's been preparing for, "but not like out here. Americans seems to have a thing for gigantic gourds and such. Pumpkins back home tend to be small, and we don't really do much with them. Carving pumpkins only started becoming popular a bit before I left the UK." Adam finally braves a sip, his nose scrunching in disgust as he swallows. "Wow," Adam says, looking visibly disappointed with the orange-tinged drink, "that's…truly awful."

"Well, it's an acquired taste," Kurt says, shifting his eyes away to the baristas behind the counter when Adam puckers up again to try another taste. "To be fair, that's not really an accurate representation of the wonder that is pumpkin."

Adam takes one more sip to make sure his first impression was right. "Mmm, no," he says, shaking his head. He puts the cup down and slides it back across the table to Kurt. Kurt stares at it for a moment, reluctant to touch it right away, as if it has been somehow transformed into something a little too magical to touch now that Adam's had his mouth on it. "I'll take your word for it, then," Adam chuckles.

Kurt bites his lips together. This might be the opening he needs, if he plays it right.

"You know, I happen to know my way around a pumpkin," Kurt says, picking up his cup so he has something to do with his hands other than fidget with his coffee stirrer. "I can always introduce you to the _real_ joys of the pumpkin universe. Maybe tonight…if you're free."

"A whole universe, huh?" Adam says, teasing slightly.

"Oh, yeah," Kurt says, feeling his heart pick up pace. "Pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread, pumpkin soup, gingered pumpkin seeds…"

"That sounds amazing," Adam admits, his charming, lopsided smile evening up at the edges.

"It is," Kurt says quickly, hoping he doesn't come off sounding too eager, though he knows that wouldn't be a problem with Adam. Adam doesn't judge. "I started baking about the same time I started walking."

"Well, you must be an expert at it then," Adam says. "Not that I'm surprised."

Kurt feels his cheeks heat more. Since he has his latte back, he brings it to his lips so he has the steam to blame for it.

"It'll make the apartment smell incredible," Kurt says, not directly acknowledging Adam's compliment. Kurt's never been good at accepting compliments, but he's working on it. Adam gives him a lot of opportunities.

"Yours?" Adam asks with a wink. "Or mine?"

"Uh…yours?" Kurt says – or asks. He doesn't know why it sounds like a question, especially when this is going better than he'd dreamed. "If you don't mind, I mean. It's just…my roommates…"

Kurt stops rambling when Adam takes his hand, lowering the coffee cup that's somewhat blocking his face.

Kurt's words may have stopped, but his heart is going so fast, it's beating itself blind.

"I'll swing by your loft and pick you up at seven," Adam says, squeezing Kurt's hand a little.

"Seven?" Kurt repeats, then says it one more time in his head, needing to know he heard correctly.

"Yup," Adam says. "I can't wait."


End file.
